


Ad Colligenda Bona

by AvaRosier



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: M/M, Modern AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-04
Updated: 2014-10-04
Packaged: 2018-02-19 19:50:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,413
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2400815
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AvaRosier/pseuds/AvaRosier
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Law school student Bellamy Blake needs to secure a key piece of evidence to impress his professor. This leads to him flirting with a certain campaign manager in a dive bar. </p><p>That's really the extent of the entire plot.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ad Colligenda Bona

**Author's Note:**

> title is the latin term meaning 'to collect the goods'. disclaimer: scant research conducted for the sake of this fic. seriously, it's just smut for the sake of smut. shamelessly ripped the idea from a similar scene in 'how to get away with murder'.

The problem, Bellamy groused to himself, was that Marcus Kane had the very exacting type of personality that brought out Bellamy’s latent need to please people. He didn’t even like the lawyer, and his pride was still smarting from the humiliation of being called upon in front of the entire lecture hall and having his argument shot down. But Kane was the best, and Bellamy was lucky to have been accepted to Georgetown law at the last minute, with his scholarship and all.

He’d gotten a Master’s in the historical field of Antiquity, which was, strictly speaking, not the best background to go into law school with. But he’d always been very good at making persuasive arguments and growing up poor had taught him a lot about the state of the legal system in the country. He  _wanted_  this, dammit.

He’d made it onto Kane’s shortlist and the Sydney corruption case just might give Bellamy a huge hand up in law school and his future career. And all that wouldn’t happen unless he stood out to his professor.

Which brought him to the dive bar frequented by the campaign manager for Diana Sydney’s opposition. Finn Collins wasn’t quite what Bellamy had expected, but there he was, sitting at a table in one corner, a bottle of local beer in front of him and a heavily worn book open in his hands.  Bellamy took in the long, dark hair, the hint of scruff, the thermal shirt with the sleeves pushed up to reveal lightly tanned forearms.

It wouldn’t be hard to get close to Finn. Not hard at all.

Which was the problem in itself.

Bellamy squared his shoulders and wandered over to the table, clutching his own sweating pint in his hands.  He’d changed into jeans and a tee that was perhaps tighter than it had to be. Even Octavia had given him a judging stare when he had headed for the door earlier that evening.

"You look desperate," she’d called out in lieu of a goodbye.

"Bite me!" He had shouted back. Lovingly.

 _Bend over and think of the networking opportunities_ , he told himself sardonically. “You know, I could recommend an entire list of books if you wanted to expand on the  _Meditations_.”

Finn’s dark head rose and Bellamy tried to keep the cocky smile he’d plastered on his face from slipping as the other man gave him the slow once-over. “You could, huh?”

Bellamy took that as his cue to sit down in the chair across from Finn. “I focused on the Antiquity in grad school.  Marcus Aurelius is kind of in my wheelhouse.”

“I just might take you up on that.” Finn placed his bookmark where he had just left off and closed the book, setting it on the table. A small smile was tugging at the corner of his mouth.

According to the research Bellamy had done, Finn batted for both teams, and he wasn’t exactly hiding his interest.  But just to milk it, Bellamy leaned forward and placed his elbows on the table, knowing full well how the position caused his shirt to strain over the lines of his torso and biceps. Finn’s eyes darted downwards and he wetted his lips.

Bingo.

Time to reel him in.

Bellamy took a sip of his beer to refresh his sudden dry throat. “I’ve always found ancient Greek politics applicable to modern day politics, which is especially useful here in the Capitol. If you want to understand the foundations of our laws, you need to understand who the lawmakers drew their inspiration from.” Finn’s eyebrows rose at that.

“You assume I have anything to do with politics in this town.”

“I’m not assuming. I recognized you. You’re Wells Jaha’s campaign manager. He’s the second youngest prospective senator in thirty years, that gets him splashed across a lot of news features.” Tell the truth and use it as misdirection, one of the best tactics he’d learned in the past five years.

Finn seemed to buy the story and their conversation flowed naturally from there back to the topic of Marcus Aurelius. Before he knew it, they were finishing their beers and heading out the bar together. No sooner had they rounded the darkened corner than Bellamy was pressing Finn back against the wall.

They were just about the same height and Bellamy let his face hover inches from Finn’s own, the lines of their torso just about touching. He hesitated to give Finn an out, but was gratified to feel the probing caress of fingers dipping beneath the hem of his shirt, teasing the skin of his lower back. A nearly imperceptible nod and Bellamy was brushing the long hairs away so he could cup Finn’s face and press a sure kiss to his lips.

All thoughts of Kane and the Sydney case flew out of his mind when Finn began to kiss back. And the man could kiss, too. Faint bristles abraded his chin, making him shiver slightly. Bellamy opened his mouth to tongue and groaned soundly, unable to stop the subtle jerk of his hips into Finn’s own. This went on for another minute, both men exploring as much skin as they could touch underneath clothing. Finally, Bellamy broke away panting.

“Want to take this back to your place?”

“Sure, but on one condition.”

“Yeah?” God, how long had it been since he had been laid? Too long.

“You drop the act and tell me what it is you’re really after.” Finn’s words caused a cold sensation to run down his spine. Bellamy stiffened and started to back away, flushing guiltily. “Hey, hey. I really just want to know.” Finn clutched Bellamy’s belt loops to halt his retreat, not sounding that pissed off.

“The Sydney case…the prosecution is arguing that she maliciously set out to mislead voters about the funding while chairing the committee. Me, I think there was entrapment going on and if I can prove it, Professor Kane would be impressed.”

In the darkness, he could barely make out Finn’s expression, but Bellamy thought he saw understanding flash in those brown eyes. Finn nodded and sighed.

“Senator Sydney is a lot of things, that’s true. But I happen to think you’re right. I’ll give you the documents, no strings attached. Although I hope we can still continue this over at my place.”

"Really? You don’t mind that I pretty much started this to use you?"

Finn shrugged laconically. “I like you. Plus, it’s kind of flattering.”

 

 

 

And that was how Bellamy found himself bouncing on Finn’s unkempt mattress, shirtless and with his jeans unbuttoned, mouth swollen from the furious makeout session they’d started outside Finn’s door and continued all the way into the bedroom. Finn paused at the foot of the bed, looking down at Bellamy. He quirked an eyebrow up at Finn. “Like what you see?”

Finn grinned unrepentantly. “Actually, yes I do. Very much.”

Bellamy had given as good as he had gotten earlier, divesting Finn of his shirt and mussing his long hair in between his clutching fingers. There were bite marks on Finn’s neck that probably matched the rug burn he could feel on his own. And the rest of him, as far as Bellamy could see…the man was a lot more ripped than he had expected. And the sight was doing funny things to his insides. The sad truth was that Bellamy, for all that he was reserved and blunt, could be such a sap.

“You pitch and I’ll catch?” Bellamy asked, raising up onto his elbows. Finn raised an eyebrow.

“Baseball analogies,  _really_?” Bellamy gave him a stony glare and shrugged.

“What of it?”

Finn only chuckled and shook his head before padding over to the dresser in the corner and removing a small item. He returned to the bed and tossed the small bottle of lube onto the mattress near Bellamy’s elbow.

“Have you ever done this before?” Bellamy didn’t need clarification to know what Finn was asking.

“Yeah, a few times.” It had been during his junior year of undergrad and Bellamy had enjoyed himself a lot, even though he still tended to hook up with or date women. And then Finn was shucking off his jeans—no underwear—and crawling over Bellamy’s prone body. This time, their kisses had more bite to them and when Finn reached down between their bodies and slid his palm along the hard ridge of the erection there, Bellamy’s eyes closed and his head flopped back against the pillow.

Finn closed his fingers around Bellamy’s cock and gave it a few steady pumps, his lips hovering close enough to Bellamy’s own to swallow the quivering moans. Need settled in his lower belly and Bellamy felt heavy and hot.

“Turn over,” Finn murmured against his ear.

So Bellamy did.

 

 

Several minutes later, he was letting out a broken noise, jerking away from the questing tongue a fraction. “Nobody’s ever done this to you, have they?” 

Bellamy couldn’t speak, only shook his head in the negative.

“That’s a shame. Just relax and let me take care of you.”

As if those were the magic words, Bellamy found his shoulders relaxing and the muscles in his buttocks unclenching. Finn returned to his task and Bellamy just groaned and opened himself up to the downright filthiness of it all.

A loud crack broke the silence of the room as Finn uncapped the bottle of lube. Bellamy tried his best to not tense up, resting most of his weight on his forearms while his ass was raised up in the air. When the first finger, heavily lubricated, began to slide past that ring of muscles, Bellamy just closed his eyes and let it through all the way up to the last knuckle before he clamped down. It felt nice, but more would be even better.

Finn withdrew his finger and on the second go, there were two pressing into him. That took more concentration, but Finn was patient, crooning nonsense as he gradually worked Bellamy open. His motions were well,  _tender_. And Bellamy was wary enough of that because he knew that it could be his downfall. So he bucked against Finn’s hand.

“Come on, let’s go.”

“So impatient,” came the tsking voice behind him. Bellamy twisted his head around to stare at Finn with reproach, only to flush at the sight of the other man rolling a condom over his rather impressive erection. Catching the line of Bellamy’s stare, Finn wriggled his eyebrows.

“Like what you see?”

“Shut up.” Bellamy turned back around and focused on the headboard.

At first, he didn’t think he could take it. But Finn moved so slowly, so inexorably, lightly holding onto Bellamy’s hips, that he surprised himself when he opened up and Finn seemed to slide all the way in. He couldn’t resist clenching down around the intrusion, sighing in pleasure as he did so. And then Finn was withdrawing and thrusting back in, settling into a rhythm that Bellamy did his best to keep up with.

It was easy to go outside his mind, to let his entire existence whittle down to nothing but the feel of Finn riding him, bending down over his back to murmur low words of encouragement into Bellamy’s ears.  Sometimes, Bellamy made sure to rotate his hips in a certain way and bear down until he felt Finn’s rhythm stutter and his breaths grow more harsh.

“Bellamy…” The warning vibrated against his neck. Sweat was beginning to gather on their skin and Bellamy knew he wasn’t going to last much longer.  He reached down, intent on jerking himself off to orgasm, only to have his hand batted away. Finn closed a fist around him and pumped roughly in concert with a series of hard thrusts. The angle sent the head of Finn’s cock right against his prostate, making Bellamy see stars.

“ _Fuck, fuck, fuckfuckfuck!_ ” The litany spilled from Bellamy’s lips as shudders ran through his body and his balls emptied past Finn’s palms and onto the sheets below. Finn didn’t say anything, but his rapid, more desperate movements said plenty as he bottomed out and ground his lower belly into Bellamy’s ass, rocking his way through his own orgasm.

It took long minutes before either man could muster up the motivation to move. Unsurprisingly, it was Bellamy, not wanting to fall asleep in the wet spot, who began to wriggle his way out from under the other man. Finn rolled away readily, and Bellamy bit back a groan at the sudden empty sensation. Shit, that had been so fucking good. Bellamy stared up at the ceiling and marvelled to himself that he could easily come back for more even after tonight.

Shoulder-to-shoulder, Finn jostled Bellamy as he raised one arm over his head, brushing damp strands away from his forehead. “Shit. I hope that was as good for you as it was for me because  _damn_.”

“Yeah.” Bellamy panted. “Same.”

Eventually, Finn got up and began to dispose of the condom and the lube. Bellamy could have gotten up and headed to the bathroom to deal with the bit of mess he had, but he kind of liked the wet, sticky feel and so he stayed put. Finn glanced his way, trying to seem nonchalant.

“You know, I make a mean cup of coffee.”

“You do, huh?” Bellamy played along, trying not to grin.

“Yeah, so you might as well stay the night and I’ll print off the documents you need to get in good with your professor in the morning.”

Bellamy pretended to seriously consider the proposal, frowning and furrowing his eyebrows in contemplation. “I suppose I  _could_  do that.”

Finn rolled his eyes and kneeled on the mattress. “Then shove over, I sleep on the left side. Ass.”

Bellamy smirked as he moved over. “Yeah, you weren’t complaining about my ass back there, Collins.”

And with that, the two men tugged the sheet up over their hips and began to curl into each other, lethargy settling in their limbs. It would so be worth rushing into Kane’s office five minutes late with sex hair and hickeys barely hidden by the collar of his dress shirt, because the disapproving stare disappeared when Bellamy handed over the manila folder full of slam-dunk evidence.

There was no way Clarke, Jasper, or Monty would top that anytime soon and he relished their shocked stares for weeks. And Finn? Yeah, he totally went back for more coffee.


End file.
